W started the whole ghastly affair. Only a day or two had passed before he fell off the back porch stairs, which resulted in a few scrapes and tears. Little did we know, that was the beginning of several horrible occurrences with stairs.
I was the next one to fall victim. My parents have a rather larger wooden staircase in their house and I managed to fly over a few before plummeting to the bottom. I wish I only had a few scrapes and tears, but my entire left side, from elbow to ankle, felt broken. My hip and thigh took the worst of it and quickly displayed a black and purple bruise the size of my head! It was extremely painful to say the least, and I quickly realized how often my left leg was touched throughout the day...A revelation I could have lived without. The funny thing was that as my bruise grew, it formed a perfect giant heart. The not so funny thing is that it lasted for a month.
O was next to challenge the stairs. He fell down the same wooden staircase and 'bonkaded' his head.
He slowly re-enacted what happened.
Wight he-uh. I bonkeded my head, wight he-uh.
E fell going UP the stairs, and yes, it was just as traumatic. O then fell again going down the basement stairs. This time he was holding onto the railing. He managed to hold on and slide down the railing as his lower half fell down several stairs.
Watch out A! You're next! We joked that A would be the next to fall. He took extra precaution.